Ignorance Is Bliss
by wanweirdd
Summary: After marrying a man she hardly knows, Marnie Greene finds herself falling into a violent, intense and psychologically-driven journey that changes everything she thought she knew. What is her husband hiding? Hawkeye/OC
1. Prologue

_Luke Bristol = Clint Barton_

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_Prologue_

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Marnie Greene hadn't planned on meeting him.

She had other plans for that day, other things she'd wanted to do. She had absolutely no intentions of meeting him, striking up a conversation and eventually asking him out for coffee. She never . . . _did_ things like that.

She liked to think that she was a conventionalist in the fact that she always waited for men to ask her out—never had she reversed that philosophy where she asked them out instead. This was such a new experience for her. She was nervous, but for whatever reason, she just couldn't let this stranger walk away from her. Something about him was incredibly intriguing—she didn't know if it was his friendly, confident manner, the sound of his voice, or if it was his eyes. Something about him just made her feel drawn to him, like he was some kind of magnet. It was the strangest sensation she'd ever felt.

It was also very strange because she hadn't been on a date in quite a while, so she felt a little out of practice. She'd only gone out with a few boys in high school but would usually only spend her time hanging around her girl-friends—watching the football games, goofing off on the bleachers and gossiping about the latest breakups. Marnie had essentially been an average teenage girl.

After she graduated, she'd found a job working in a small cubicle answering customer complaints while taking classes at a local community college a few hours away from her home town. It wasn't necessarily a bad job. Mainly customers just shouted at her down the line while she rolled her eyes and sipped her coffee, talking in a sweet voice whilst wishing something large would fall on their heads. She'd been at that job for four years now, and although it was dull and nothing every changed, it paid the bills that always seemed to keep piling up.

And now here she was, asking this complete stranger out for coffee, a man whom she'd only just met a few minutes ago—and he had agreed, much to her relief.

They walked through the dusky evening light a few blocks down the sidewalk to a nearby coffee shop. It was a fairly nice place, with dark, cherry oak tables and smooth, polished floors. They seated themselves at a leather booth in the back near the window and talked for the rest of the evening, sipping their drinks. For Marnie it had been a pumpkin spice latte and for the man, named Luke Bristol, it had just been coffee—black, with no cream or sugar.

She had to admit that she found it strange how the two of them were getting along so well. Never in her whole life had she ever been able to hold a conversation so easily. Most men she had gone out to dinner with or dated had seemed to only want to talk about their jobs or their past girlfriends. Dates likes those had always ended a bit awkwardly. There were no whispered promises of "I'll call you" or "see you soon" coming from her mouth.

With Luke, however, it was different. Everything seemed so effortless with him. She didn't feel like she had to force herself to agree with the things he would say, just for the sake of being polite, and found that she didn't even want to in the first place.

They shared pleasantries with each other at first. She explained that her older brother Jackson was a police officer and that her parents lived three hours away in Fort Collins, Colorado, where she had been raised. Luke, in turn, told her that he didn't have any siblings, and then went on to explain that his parents had passed.

He didn't mention how they died, and Marnie was okay with that. She felt it was too soon to pry him with such personal questions anyways.

For the rest of evening they talked quietly. She listened to him with rapt attention, finding herself immersed and intrigued by his ideas, thoughts and opinions. He seemed so passionate about what he spoke of, talked with such conviction that something was strangely hypnotic about his tone.

She was genuinely sorry when one the workers from behind the counter arrived at their table to announce to them that they were closing shop. In the end, Luke had asked her if she wanted to meet again the next day and she immediately complied, excited. Here was someone exotic, someone who answered her yearning for adventure and understood her independent personality. She was hopelessly impressed with the older man.

After going out every day for the next two weeks, Luke took Marnie on a walk and confessed that he was in love with her. Marnie replied that she thought she loved him too and before their stroll was done, he had talked her into marrying him.

When Marnie broke the news to her parents, they were alarmed that their daughter was flinging herself into marriage with a man she'd known for just days. There was a lot she didn't know about Luke, a realization that was undoubtedly true, but didn't bother her. She loved Luke more than she had ever loved anyone before. She was convinced that he would reveal more of his past to her in time. He was a cloth, waiting to be unraveled before her eyes, a cloth that had to be peeled away slowly, carefully, and with the utmost care.

In critical ways, she was engaged to a stranger, but no matter how much her mother and father begged her to change her mind, Marnie couldn't be swayed. On March 28th, only three weeks later, the couple was married in a local chapel in front of close friends and family.

Marnie was in a bliss.

_But ignorance can only last so long before reality sets in._

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_Review and favorite!_


	2. Chapter One

_Luke Bristol = Clint Barton_

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_Chapter One_

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The following weeks seemed to pass in a dizzying whirlwind.

Marnie was falling more in love with Luke each day, and was all but glowing when they returned from their honeymoon in California. She'd never felt so happy and perfect in her life. Luke completed her, made her feel beautiful and important, like she was truly worth something. He lavished her with more attention than she could have ever hoped to receive, and she felt safe and secure whenever he was around.

For Marnie, Luke was the perfect flaw. He was everything she had ever looked for in a man and so much more. There were so many faucets to him and his personality that she couldn't wait to explore. He was shrouded in mystery and she was captivated when he spoke of his past and revealed little bits and pieces of it to her. It felt as if he were a puzzle and his past the pieces. She collected those pieces when she could, eager to learn more about him. He rarely spoke of family or relatives, and he hadn't even revealed his hometown or what college he attended.

Marnie knew his parents were dead, that she had learned from their first conversation at the coffee shop, but he had never explained how or when. She wanted to know if they had passed away recently or when he was a boy. She sensed that he carried a lot of emotional baggage and could sometimes see a hint of _something_ inflicted in his eyes, but they were mere glimpses and nothing more. He had a way of masking his emotions well, but she didn't mind. If his problems were too painful to bring up, then she didn't want to pressure him into having to do so. She was convinced that he would tell her when he was ready.

Things had moved fast from the very start, but the two of them weren't slowing down anytime soon, least of all Marnie. When they returned home from their two week honeymoon, they would do everything together—watch TV, take walks when the weather permitted, or simply sit and talk about their day. She would make him breakfast every morning before work, and cook him dinner when he got home and soon, they found themselves falling into a comfortable routine.

But it was five months into their marriage that Marnie started to notice something was off.

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Marnie stirred in her bed. The heat of a steamy, Colorado morning lay thick in her room, hanging sodden and heavy about her. She had kicked off the white bedspread and sheets hours earlier, her lavender nightie now bunched up around her waist. No breeze was blowing through the open, screened window and the moon hung low. Its milky light lay supine on her floor, a dim, inadequate lantern. She awoke, vaguely aware of movement downstairs below her.

Shifting, she reached a hand out for her husband, only to find the space beside her bare and cold.

Marnie sat up in alarm and looked around their bedroom. It was empty.

She pushed her blankets back, moving toward the door and lightly walking down the hallway. She had moved into Luke's modest one-story home after the wedding. He worked at a local construction company as a human resource worker and made good money, giving her a comfortable life-style.

In the far corner was a brown leather couch and before that was a coffee table littered with magazines and a floral craft that Marnie had made with her mother. Along the wall to the right were two doorways: a bright kitchen evident through one and a bathroom through the other. Along the front of the house was a lazy-boy chair and a TV set. It was there she spotted Luke pulling on a pair of shoes, wearing a dark windbreaker and a pair of jeans.

"Luke?"

He looked up. For a hint of a second, something flashed in his eyes—shock, possibly frustration. Whatever it was, it quickly oozed into an easy smile.

"What're you doing up?" he asked.

Marnie pressed her lips together and furrowed her brows. "I should be asking you the same thing," she replied, wrapping her arms around her middle.

"Don't worry, I'll be back in a few hours," he stood, a quiet power rippling around him, dripping with incontrovertible masculinity. He took slow, deliberate steps toward Marnie and she found her body growing warm as she studied him. Luke's auburn hair was cropped short around his handsome face and there were little green flecks in the iris of his blue eyes. His form was powerful and defined (though she'd never seen him go to the gym) and was somehow graceful—like an elite martial artist rather than a guy who pumped iron.

He took another step forward until he was standing in front of her. "Something came up at work," he reached out and set his hands on her hips, pulling her closer.

Marnie took a deep breath, and let her gaze wander. It was too hard to speak and look at him at the same time, "At two in the morning?"

"Don't worry about it, babe," he kissed her forehead and turned toward the door. "Try to get some sleep."

"Luke?" Marnie bit the corner of her lower lip, drawing it into her mouth. Taking a hesitant step forward, she reached out her small fingers and touched his shoulder.

"I-I love you," she whispered.

He paused but didn't look back at her. His reply was monotonous.

"I love you, too."

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It was once or twice a week.

At around one o'clock he would sneak out of the bed and dress, wearing a simple pair of jeans and a black jacket, and then he would simply _vanish_—without a word, without anything but the clothes on his back.

Her heart felt like it had stalled in her chest.

Why wouldn't Luke reach out to her and tell her what was going on? Why was he pulling away from her? Where was he going in the middle of the night? It couldn't possibly be work—she wasn't so stupid to believe something as ridiculous as that—and his lying only continued to cause an anxious feeling to swell up inside her. Each excuse hammered nail after nail into the coffin of her worst fears, worries she'd been desperately trying to justify in Luke's frequent late-night outings.

Her husband was a very private man, she knew this, but she was his _wife_. She had every right to know where he was going.

Soon, it wasn't just his midnight leavings that caused Marnie to feel uneasy.

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Marnie was struggling to pull one of Home Depot's huge industrial-sized shopping carts from the bin when Luke came around the back of their truck. The handle only came up to her chest and she had to throw her entire body behind the job, barely able to pull it free as she arduously turned it toward the store.

Luke came up behind her and caged her between his well-built arms.

"Hop up, baby girl," he murmured in her ear.

With a delighted smile, she jumped up onto the bar that ran between the wheels and leaned back into his shoulder. He pushed both cart and wife easily toward the wide automatic doors, swerved them dramatically through the wide aisles. Marnie's girlish giggles were met with his small chuckles as he meandered his way toward the paint section.

Luke parked the cart by swatches of color that paraded down long thin cards.

"I'll go order them to cut the glass and sheet rock," he began as Marnie hopped off the cart, "and then come back and get you. We can pick it up on the way out."

Her eyes brightened, "That sounds good, it'll probably take me a while. I never knew there were so many colors of blue!" She shook her head incredulously, turning back to the wall of swatches.

Luke leaned in and kissed her temple from where she was already pulling out a little card. "Remember, there's a difference between interior and exterior paint, babe," he smirked.

Marnie's eyes snapped up at the sign above her—_exterior matte_—and turned back to him with a roll to her eyes. "Yeah, you can probably take all day to order that glass . . ." she snorted.

Luke turned with a small smile and made his way toward the back of the store, leaving her to pick out the color for their home. Marnie had asked if she could paint their kitchen a pretty powdery blue and her husband had complied, needing to get a few items himself. Though their home was nice, it was still a fixer-upper and in desperate need of some improvement.

Thirty-minutes later, Marnie was perched on the shopping cart, feet on the bottom bar and leaning over the handle examining little cards of color fanned out in both hands. After a half an hour of contemplating, she had finally decided on a beautiful dusky blue that reminded her of the sky on a cloudy day. With a self-satisfied nod, she quickly picked out some brushes and rollers, wondering where Luke was. She was surprised he wasn't finished ordering the sheet rock and glass.

Pushing through the aisle, she paused at the sound of his voice. He was speaking very quietly and when she peeked her head around the corner, she found his back to her, a phone to his ear.

"_I'll blow it if . . . I get that . . . get Romanoff . . . Alright . . . I'll see what I can do . . ._"

She could only catch a few snippets of the conversation and before she could hear anymore he had hung up and stuffed the cellphone into his back pocket. For a few moments he continued to stare forward and although she couldn't see his expression, his form was stiff—like a bungee cord pulled too tight.

He let out an audible sigh and ran a hand through his hair, pausing to look at his left hand.

His wedding ring, a simple silver band, glinted under the flickering light bulbs at the top of the store. He turned it back and forth and she faintly saw the muscles in his back twitch.

The young wife's heart sank when he roughly stuffed his fists into his pockets, like the sight of his ring made him _sick._

After that, Marnie felt a rush of desperation.

When they got home, she attacked him—ripping off his clothing and kissing him hard on the lips, practically clawing at his skin. They immediately moved toward the bedroom.

She planned on keeping him there the rest of the evening.

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"Marnie, I gotta go."

"N-no," she grumbled, holding his hands to her peevishly.

He kissed her forehead with a chuckle and lifted himself from the bed, pulling on a pair of boxers and jeans from the drawers in front of the bed.

Panic rose up inside of Marnie and in the next instant she was pushing off the mattress with the heels of her hands and leaning toward him. The blanket fell from her chest to reveal her naked skin to his surprised gaze, and she let a wicked smile ooze over her pink lips when she reached out to him, running her hands down his built chest, "Just one more time, Luke." Marnie moved up onto her knees and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, kissing his jaw. Her smile widened when she felt him sigh.

"Babe . . . I can't—"

Marnie promptly lay back, looking up to him expectantly. A pink tongue skated unconsciously over parted lips and she watched Luke's eyes darken as he looked over her nude frame. Making sure she had his attention, Marnie ran a hand up to her chest, the other moving toward the middle of her thighs.

She closed her eyes, tipped back her head and moaned, "_Please!_"

Like a dam breaking his mouth crashed onto hers, arms snapped around her like a steel trap, one hand wrapping in her ginger waves.

He made love to her—_passionate, sensual, pushing, dragging_—pulling her body up against his as his hips pumped against her. It was a luxuriant and sumptuous pace that made her burn slowly into white-hot need. It was sultry and dreamy, like the wind in the trees in August. It pulled at her heartstrings, her body, her soul.

When they were finished, sound slowly began to seep back into Marnie's periphery from the mind-numbing aftermath of such a sensual overwhelm: the rain pattering on the windows, the constant, patient drip in the sink, their breaths harsh and ragged over their racing hearts.

Marnie smiled smugly.

She had done it. _She made him stay._

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It was twenty-minutes later, after they'd caught their breath and their hearts returned to their normal rhythms, that Luke sat up from the bed and dressed.

He left without a word.

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_next chapter, shit gets real._

_review and favorite!_


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